Annulet (Keepers Book 2)

Chapter 11 - In Which a Small Search Occurs

"Thank you," Tracey said to Constant before dismounting the carriage and hurrying inside. The hair on her neck stood on end as she felt the man's gaze following her.

Tracey sighed as she closed the door and locked it. She leaned against it, closing her eyes and clutching the package. I must be getting paranoid, she thought. I can hardly trust anyone!

Her mind was abuzz of many possibilities: why was Constant so interested in the package? Mittie mentioned her parents used him as a sort of spy before—perhaps he was spying on Tracey as well? "And more importantly, what were those two doing at the beach?" she muttered.

"Tracey? There you are!"

Tracey's eyes flew open and she looked about the kitchen for the owner of the voice. "Oh!" she sighed, holding a hand to her chest. "It's you, Meridith."

Her friend stood in the doorway with a basket on her hips, filled to the brim with linen. Unlike the previous day, her hair was now pulled back into a messy bun, sprigs of fiery hair poking out. "Where have you been?" she said. "I thought you would've spent the morning home!"

"Oh, I had some stuff to pick up from Mr. Porter," Tracey lightly said, placing the box on the wooden kitchen table. "He shipped it to me overnight and I picked it up this morning."

Meridith's eyes narrowed. "Tracey," she said. "This isn't...work-related, is it?"

"What?" Tracey said, holding up her hands. "Why would you ever think that?"

Meridith frowned and shook her head. "Anyways," she said, dropping the basket onto the table with a thunk. "I stopped by to see if you wanted to spend the day with me. I thought Harris and I would be able to spend some time with you this evening, but the Nidayes requested all hands on deck with their dinner. I don't know what exactly they're planning for this dinner, but it looks like it's something big."

"I'd love to spend the day with you, Meridith!" Tracey said with a smile. "I've actually gotten a last-minute invitation from Mr. Nidaye to attend this dinner."

"Really?" Meridith said, her eyebrows raising. "That's rather out-of-character for him."

"How so?"

"Sure, Mr. Nidaye is nice, but he doesn't suddenly extend invitations to people...unless he has a hidden agenda linked to it."

"I can't imagine what he'd want with me," Tracey said, drumming her fingers on Mr. Nidaye's package.

"I can't either," Meridith agreed. She sighed. "If I had remembered this inventor event was happening this week—or even that the Nidayes were sponsoring the whole thing—I would have asked you to come next week or so!"

"It's alright," Tracey graciously said. "Don't worry, Meridith, I'll be careful. I'm already close friends with one of his daughters."

Meridith stared. "Are you?" she said incredulously. "How did that happen? I thought you rarely went out other than for work! Since when have you had the time for making new friends?"

Tracey winced. I know that I can be a tad anti-social, but I didn't think she thought me incapable of making friends, she thought with an indignant sniff. "Do you remember the merchant who helped me find Mr. Porter?" she said, pushing aside her slighted feelings.

"You don't mean Matilde Nidaye, do you?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "You've never said you knew any of the Nidayes."

"Well, she failed to mention who her family was when we were last together," Tracey said. "I ran into her in the manor yesterday."

"And you both are friends? The whole household knows that you were coming; she could have sent you a message at the very least!"

"She wanted to surprise me. Believe me—when we were last together, there was hardly enough time to even learn each other's names. I don't even think I've told her about my past."

"I'd hardly expect you to unload your entire history to a stranger," Meridith grunted.

"Mittie isn't a stranger, Meridith."

She shook her head. "I don't like this...but I trust your judgment, Tracey." Meridith picked up the basket again and headed toward the door. "Come on, let's go. I'll give you a tour of where I work!"

"Wait," Tracey said, picking up the box. "Will there be enough time for me to get dressed for dinner if I go?"

"How about you take your clothes and accessories with you and I find you a room in the manor to leave them in? I know there are a few unoccupied guest rooms that you can use to get ready."

"That...sounds perfect, actually!" Tracey said with a relieved smile. "Let me get my things, I'll be back soon."

"Take your time," Meridith said, plopping onto a stool.

Tracey took Meridith's offer to heart and subsequently spent twenty minutes in her room thoroughly searching for her carriage ticket. Her attire for the evening had been far easier a task to coordinate: the same pooling dress that Mittie had talked her into buying for Jon Starr's performance along with an intricate gold necklace Bentam had gifted to her a few weeks ago. Bentam and the children, she corrected herself, lacing the golden threads in her fingers, remembering how Charlie and Harriet proudly presented the jewelry on behalf of Bentam (while Bentam himself hovered behind them).

Tracey carefully placed the necklace into a pouch and then said pouch inside her now-emptied travel bag. As she took the dress to fold and place with the necklace, she wrinkled her nose in distaste at its' large bows. Tracey had attempted the week before to have a seamstress remove the gaudy embellishments to no avail. "It's part of the look!" the seamstress had said. "It'd no longer be a formal dress if I were to remove it."

"I'm sure it would've been just as elegant," Tracey muttered, vehemently stuffing the dress and snapping the bag shut. "Now where could that ticket be?" she sighed, scanning her room.

In the wake of Tracey's search were the remains of her guest room— gone was the somewhat disheveled space that it had been from yesterday. In its place was a chaotic area of strewn clothing, hats, gloves, and shoes. One could hardly see the bed anymore, let alone the wood flooring.

"Oh, this is hopeless!" Tracey sighed. "I've emptied this bag at least twice, and it's nowhere to be found!"

Tracey scanned the room one last time, her eyes resting on the box atop the bed. Mr. Nidaye's package, she thought, opening the bag once more and attempting to stuff the parcel within. To her dismay, the package proved to be too large. "I'll have to carry it, then," she said, heading to the door and exiting the guest room.